


Hearts don't hear

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Sex, alpha taeyong, omega yuta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yuta believes in power and evasion. Taeyong believes in veiling and partnership. When Taeyong bites Yuta’s neck, they’re unfortunately stuck together and it’s not a fact they’re overly fond of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i’m sorry i destroyed your prompt anna you can hit me bye.

The marking was an accident, as Yuta puts it, reminding himself of that every time the bruised circle at the back of his neck burns in desire for a lash of a certain pair of alpha teeth against it.

The marking was a mistake, as Taeyong puts it, trying to redirect his reluctant mind which is more interested in showing him flashbacks of that weird rainy training day when he and Yuta had been so engrossed in proving they could practice past their limits, an unspoken competition Taeyong had been sure he’d win but then Yuta had collapsed on the floor.

It hadn’t been a seizure from overworking, it was Yuta’s heat.

“Stay away,” Yuta had growled, dragging his limp body with the help of barely responsive muscles and senses but it was undoubtedly too late, both should have been asleep in the dorms not practicing.

Knowing Yuta, (Taeyong still doesn’t understand why his brain has a special corner labelled ‘Yuta-facts’) he’d be too embarrassed if he wasn’t internally rendered helpless by his heat, to go back to the dorms. Taeyong simply had _known_ Yuta would wait his heat out in the practice room. Then he would call Hansol to take care of his heat, like he always did or maybe Sicheng, Taeyong assumed it had been _good_ with Sicheng since Yuta was screaming so loudly the last vacation they’d been on— _forget it,_ he’d told himself.

There are three unmated alphas in the group and Yuta only ever asks two of them of take care of his heat.

Yuta hadn’t let go of Haechan’s tennis racquet that was on the floor plus he’d glowered at Taeyong for a good long period until Taeyong had backed away enough to assure Yuta that both of them would be on opposite sides of the practice room, the lines on the flooring existing as standoff between them.

Taeyong decided they’ve got a lot to work to do on their trust issues or maybe Yuta just plain hated him.

“If it’s any comfort, I have high resistance to omegas in...heat,” Taeyong had drawled out, gesturing vaguely at the last word. Nevertheless, it had made Yuta’s blood boil. He only flinched at the information but Taeyong had been relieved Yuta had at least put the racquet down.

But his own resistance had slowly begun to dismount him from that trail of stability. Once the scent hit him faintly, there was no going back. Taeyong had run for a towel then, smothering his nose in the smell of clean deodorant, trying to look everywhere but at Yuta.

The omega pheromone is not just a sexy smell, it’s like a virus, invading an alpha’s body and driving them mad, making them want to act beyond their true behaviour and Taeyong hates this about himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been around Yuta in heat; however it was the first time he’d been alone with him during one.

Yuta had been weakened by the sudden change in him, the warmth in his veins slowly heating up his body to the tip of his toes. He chugged down all the water he could get his hands on without moving too much, the slick between his legs disgusted him when he tried to adjust on the floor, simultaneously being agitated that Taeyong didn’t even offer to help, but then alphas can’t do much except have their brains in their dicks. He had looked like he desperately needed to be taken care of, that Taeyong could see but he knew Yuta would never admit.

Yuta’s words had been cruel, “Get lost.” Taeyong hadn’t expected him to be nice when his own body was rebelling against him.

“Let me take you back to the dorm,” Taeyong had whispered and Yuta cursed the effect his voice had produced, another pour of slick making him wetter. It had taken Yuta some time to accept Taeyong as an acknowledgeable existence in his life but he knew deep down he wasn’t that bad of a guy to let him suffer alone in a practice room at a time like this. Yuta didn’t know whether he should have been endeared by this or annoyed.

“I don’t need...you,” Yuta had felt himself being picked up and brought to the nearest bathroom Taeyong could carry him without taking in so much as a little breath no sooner had the words left his mouth. Even though Taeyong hadn’t inhaled any of Yuta’s pheromones with his breathing stopped, his body sang whilst holding the omega, even if it was just for a second. Its thirst for the feel of Yuta against him like this quenched, but then not quite.

Never enough.

Having left Yuta in the bathroom, Taeyong had dashed out and taken deep breaths to normalise. His head was spinning, his rationality slowly leaving him, letting alpha instincts settle in. The hallway was lit by one light above his head; either side of him had been dark and empty, quite like his emotions at that moment.

“You okay in there Yuta? If you need anything—”

The door had suddenly swung open. Pheromones had come flooding out, hitting Taeyong sharply as if Yuta was purposefully alluring him. He hadn’t looked close attractive at that moment, sweatpants swollen and damp, the left strap of the tank top askew, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead but all of Taeyong’s body was being stirred by every unnecessarily focused detail.

He’d resisted omegas in heat throwing themselves at him before, so why was he suddenly so weak for one standing before him with glassy eyes and an appearance he had never bothered to notice?

It was like Yuta’s smell was made to break those resistance barriers. It was made to make him go crazy.

“Fuck me,” Yuta had commanded, and it was everything Taeyong had needed to hear, proceeding to slam Yuta against the mirror and doing exactly that.

He fucked Yuta till he felt the satisfaction of making him scream like never before, till Yuta’s face was drenched in tears and sweat, till his body redoubled force with every thrust, till he discovered such sadism in him to see Yuta in pain and the desire to give him pleasure.

Taeyong had known all of this was meant for ruin. Ruin what exactly, he didn’t know but they had crossed multiple lines in one night, done something they both knew they would regret for the rest of their lives. _This_ was taking advantage of someone’s vulnerable stage, this was wrong. But this was what Yuta wanted.

Maybe this was how Taeyong wanted it too.

Marking, however was never a part of what either had wanted—or at least, what they believed they hadn’t wanted.

.

Yuta likes to pretend he is not marked. That he was never marked, that the person who marked him wasn’t his own leader. The truth rested with Taeyong and Yuta, after the marking incident, Yuta was ordered to always be on suppressants. Taeyong was, surprisingly handed some suppressants as well.

“Those are for Yuta, not you,” the manager had clarified. Taeyong had quizzically held the tablets, “Why?”

“Because when the heat comes, you either give him the pills or you take care of him. He’s your responsibility.”

 _He’s your mate,_ Taeyong had heard him between the lines.

This was supposed to be a work environment; this wasn’t supposed to come down to being Yuta’s lover. If Yuta had hated Taeyong before this, he probably hates him even more now. The company detests the blunder of mixing personal and professional lives together.

“You brought this on yourself hyung.”

“Thank you for the commentary I did not ask for, Jaehyun.”

.

Responsibility could have been Taeyong’s middle name if he had one. He was undeniably good at taking care of people, he could cook and that alone was a million plus points. He’d looked up everything that happens to an omega in heat and was prepared. Mentally prepared, he meant, because the incident could happen again, he could go all alpha-mode and fuck Yuta against his will for Yuta’s pheromones were plain weird and his inbuilt resistance couldn’t successfully do much against it.

He’d stashed the drawers well with enough food; Yuta would have a practice session with only the omegas so Taeyong understood the importance of keeping Yuta fed enough to be energetic for long. The calendars were marked; Taeyong was ready to take care of his heat.

What he wasn’t ready for was the scene in which Hansol held Yuta’s semi-naked and profusely convulsing body and ran towards him after placing him to rest on the bed. All of this, in Hansol’s room.

“Taeyong! Yuta has—!”

He didn’t have to hear to know what Yuta and Hansol had done.

His eyes glowered. _You dared to touch my omega._

Taeyong tries his best to calm down. Clearly, it wasn’t Hansol’s fault, Yuta can get his way easily with anyone. Hansol was only helping out a friend’s heat. Taeyong has enough sanity to realise that.

That doesn’t help the fact that he still wants to twist the bones of every other alpha around him.

“Hyung...that was stupid,” Taeyong tells him as they go into the kitchen to get food and water.

“That’s what I told Yuta but you know how stubborn he gets,” Hansol says, grabbing a tray from the cabinet, “I hope you’re not angry.”

 _Oh you fucking bet I am._ “I’m disappointed he didn’t come to me,” Taeyong states, “Any reason you could think of?”

“You should ask Yuta that,” Hansol says, the smug look on his face aggravating Taeyong.

“If it was that easy I wouldn’t have asked you,” Hansol hears him say before he disappears from sight and goes into the room for Yuta.

 _I hope they talk it out,_ Hansol thinks to himself. _After all there must be a reason Yuta screamed Taeyong’s name even when they weren’t mated._

Taeyong can see Yuta has now calmed down, he wishes he hadn’t seen him in so much pain earlier. Yuta should know what side effects trying to have sex with another alpha as a mated omega should bring about.

But now that he’s done it regardless of the consequences, Taeyong has to go and clean up Yuta’s ego.

He steps closer, places the suppressant pill stack and water on the table.

_I’m going to take care of his heat only if he asks me, otherwise I’m just here to give him the pills. That’s all there is to it._

Yuta wakes up from the faint sound, he looks up with bleary, tearful eyes and Taeyong’s chest swells.

“Hansol-hyung?” Yuta murmurs weakly and despite the compelling pheromones already attacking his body, Taeyong turns away.

Some mistakes, we let go. Taeyong’s not sure he’ll be able to with this one.

No matter how many alphas there would be, Yuta might as well cast a wide net, turn to all of them to take care of his heat but never one, even though he may be bonded to him.

It strikes Taeyong how much Yuta detests him to go to the lengths to prove that that mark on his neck meant nothing.

Even if it meant his body would suffer thereafter.

.

Taeyong isn’t expecting a change in their dynamics. They have a superb act perfected before everyone, Jaehyun can think he’s the brainiest bitch in town but he couldn’t even guess that the forced looks of smiles both have on their faces are the fakest expressions possible in creation.

Yuta’s heat comes back every three months and for those special one week’s, he clings onto an alpha of his choice: Hansol-hyung because he takes care of almost every omega in the group on request or Sicheng because Yuta’s got him wrapped around his finger.

One fine day, Sicheng breaks the news that he’s mated with Doyoung. That one fine day also happens to be the day before Yuta would go into heat and of course Yuta didn’t pay heed to his cycles, he simply asked Taeyong about it.

Taking advantage of Taeyong’s concern for his health was something Yuta refused to feel bad about because he had every right to be mad at Taeyong for taking his freedom of choice away, didn’t he? Whatever this delusion of feelings Taeyong was experiencing was only because of the marking, it wasn’t Yuta’s fault all alphas aren’t as sound in judgement as Hansol.

 _Besides,_ Yuta reminds himself, _he didn’t even look at me before that._

When Yuta feels his body tensing up and flaming, his legs carry him to Sicheng’s door at the dead of the night.

When Sicheng looks him in the eye with so much detest and refuses, Yuta doesn’t understand, because rejection is something he’s never understood.

“Winwin I’m in heat,” he urges, enunciating the word defining his state so that he revokes his decision. Yuta has no time for convincing but Sicheng doesn’t reply, only shuts the door until the living room is dark and holds Yuta’s darker shuddering shadow.

The silence had spoken enough yet Yuta heard him speak.

“You need to ask your mate to do you, not me,” Sicheng spoke loud enough for his voice to penetrate the door separating them, realising that Yuta hadn’t flinched an inch from his spot.

“He doesn’t matter,” Yuta is quick with an excuse, like he always is. In a few moments Sicheng would open the door, fuck him on command and that is how easy persuasion is when you’re an omega. In addition to that Yuta believes being older means being in power.

“Hyung, you don’t care about bonds and ties but I do,” Winwin tells him softly but Yuta hears this as if they’re the only sounds reaching him.

“I am not going to be unfaithful to Doyoung-hyung. I’m sorry. Good night.”

So this was about faithfulness? _Loyalty?_ Pathetic words in the book that made you stick to one thing and assured unlimited boredom at the cost of being limited?

 _Unfaithful_. It hits Yuta like a heart attack.

The word is synonymous with _cheating_ and that, Yuta had been doing at an unprecedented rate if his relationship with Taeyong was to be considered something of an emotional bond and not a joined physicality created by the impulse of hormones. So assuming that Yuta is _cheating_ , is a false inference.

Though what actually makes Yuta want to puke his guts out is the other aspect of the word unfaithful—lacking faith.

He didn’t even have faith. Not in himself to make things better between him and Taeyong and worst of all, none in Taeyong who had given him what he’d always dreamed of, _his_ mark except only altering the timing and doing it in a loveless act but the point was that Yuta should have had _faith_.

Yuta should have had faith in his own feelings, the night he decided to hate Taeyong for not reciprocating what he felt.

Yet he chooses to point fingers because he already hates himself beyond saturation. It’s the point where he'll break, he knows it.

“I wasn’t given a chance to choose you idiot,” Yuta grumbles petulantly, stumbling along the walls that seem to be fading as his mind loses sense of perspective; his limbs lose balance in consequence. It’ll shock Johnny for one thing, that dude will be scared shitless once he sees a collapsed Yuta at his door in the morning. Sadly Yuta would be unconscious to savour the look of fright on his face and before Yuta can conjure up any more strength to think, he’s slipping.

And guess who catches him.

Yuta shoves Taeyong away and that action is the hardest thing for him to do both physically and emotionally. He is tired of being the one who hurts Taeyong, he’s tired of ignoring him, he’s tired of purposefully sleeping with other alphas and puking blood afterwards, he’s tired of not being able to stop hurting him, but Taeyong comes back, kinder and gentler, every single time.

Yuta wonders if it’s love. He makes it a point to ask Taeyong before he passes out.

.

Yuta is dizzy with an odd mix of lust and nausea once he wakes up. Not really uncommon. However his bedside is empty and neatened and that is very uncommon, especially during a time like this. As much as he is used to the feeling of holding somebody close after a night of the ‘heat-week’, he suddenly feels that waking up alone like this, in an empty room with nothing but his own scent in the air—this is much better that having someone he didn’t love around.

When Taeyong steps out of the shower, schedule sogged around the edges and Yuta’s suppressant in a syringe in his hands, Yuta doesn’t even realise what sense of urgency overcame him when the words slipped out of his mouth.

“I love you.”

The quietness on both their parts couldn’t have been more deafening. Taeyong looks at him and that makes Yuta feel that he should look away. It’s a look of forgiveness, trust and an indefinable affection that makes Yuta sick in the stomach because it gives him hope. Yuta doesn’t think he deserves to be looked at like that.

“Forget it,” he blurts and Taeyong shrugs. Placing the syringe on Yuta’s blanket covered lap, he gazes at Yuta, only gazes, taking in his morning hair that has stood up in absurd angles, lashes turning invisible with the shining backdrop of the window, rough lips he’d never kissed and lastly, the crimson lines on his neck.

Then he leaves.

Yuta spends the next few minutes still seated on the bed, staring blankly at the wall, thinking that his confession was worthless.

He’s already crying by the time the manager comes to brief him about the week’s schedule.

.

Injections always work better than the pills do, the sweating stops and Yuta finally has the freedom to board the same van as the rest of his members. A handful of managers are omegas themselves, they don’t hold it against a member who has heat in the midst of a busy promotional week.

They, however do not appreciate the way Taeyong was letting Yuta’s heat worsen his condition.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” he’s asked and Yuta overhears the not-so-private conversation. He’s a bit guilty Taeyong constantly gets harangued about Yuta’s health and he guesses it was the case now because Taeyong narrows his eyes at him for a moment before sneering at the manager.

“I gave him a suppressant, what else did you want me to do?” Taeyong growls and Yuta’s brows crease as he watches the manager haul him around for a good yell.

“Do you know what a suppressant overdose can do?” the manager shouts and Yuta is ready to interfere, he stands up grimacing and making his presence known.

Taeyong, gives Yuta a sidelong glare before extending it to the manager and the moment is the worst one to get aroused, they’ve just finished performing for the day and have yet to show up for the final announcement stage but Yuta’s priorities are fading because Taeyong smells so good and he can’t help but fall onto his back blowing Taeyong’s eyes wide at the contact.

The manager fumbles for pills in her tote, “He needs suppressants—”

“I thought you were just advising me against such measures,” Taeyong interrupts, his tone lippy and aimed to rile her up. He notices Yuta slumping against his back and Taeyong turns and offers his hand.

He holds out his palm and wraps Yuta’s fingers around it before they’re dragging past greedy alpha and a few beta eyes into an empty changing room.

By then it’s too hot to breathe and his mind thinks nothing but the fact that Taeyong is too hot to be real and that Yuta _needs_ him. Heat is always a torture but he’s never felt it like this before with others, the desire for Taeyong to take him on the nearest fucking wall, table, floor, _anything_.

Only disappointment of his is that Taeyong _isn’t_ reacting.

They’re alone; Yuta is fully letting out his pheromones, triggered by Taeyong’s own scent, he’s vulnerable and wanton so the last thing he expects is an alpha that’s literally not jumping at the opportunity.

“Why aren’t you taking me?” he manages to murmur. The room is tiny, there’s no way Yuta’s smell isn’t affecting Taeyong, who is sitting on a chair as if someone glued his ass to the chair and feet to the ground.

Taeyong swings in the chair like an ignorant child, “The last time you were in heat I did something terrible because I wasn’t thinking,” he stops to face Yuta with uncharacteristic seriousness, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want again.”

Yuta laughs feebly, “Is this your apology? For marking me?” He can see Taeyong visibly shudder.

“It’s part of it,” Taeyong replies, truthful as always.

“Then why are you here?” Yuta asks, his voice is cracking and his legs pool on the floor, back sliding down the wall with no energy left to listen. He’s ready to plead before Taeyong to do something but he’s already proven he didn’t want him before so he can’t without seeming like a total slut for a knot.

“I wanted to keep you safe,” Taeyong says, his tone is no longer composed, his pupils wide and when Yuta reaches out into nothingness, he finds his hands touching Taeyong’s face softly.

“From what?” Yuta sobs, his cock is throbbing unbearably, “Gross alphas who want me because I’m in heat?” he stops to press his aching forehead before growling.

“You’d still be pretty irresistible without the heat, trust me,” Taeyong mumbles, his lips buried in Yuta’s hair. He’s so close, their baggy outfits touching and every loud beat of Taeyong’s heart is followed by Yuta’s own. Taeyong tilts his face to let Yuta’s thumb graze his sharp teeth and Yuta has never been more turned on by something so subtle as this in his whole life.

He takes in a sharp breath.

“Lee Taeyong if I don’t have your fingers in me in the next ten seconds I will fucking kick you out.”

.

When they reach the dorms, Yuta pulls Taeyong and offers him something he’d never given to him before—a kiss.

He pulls Taeyong with his lips, refusing to touch him anywhere other than that because he knows Taeyong doesn’t feel the same way even though he wraps Yuta in a hug that feels perfect despite both are shaking. It’s not surprising that Taeyong is nothing but silent stares and quivering limbs because this isn’t love. Mutually, it’s impossible.

But Yuta wants to be there for Taeyong like no one has. He doesn’t have a care in the world except _him_.

It’s crazy to want an alpha emotionally but Yuta’s done with denial.

He loves him, he’ll be honest about it, he’ll show it and he won’t hold back what he’s feeling anymore because here is where all his walls are down, in Taeyong’s arms. Here is where he doesn’t have to pretend that he’s a mature manly man who doesn’t need anyone.

He cries and laughs at the same time moving to grab a tissue box and Taeyong smiles at him, as their foreheads slide together. Taeyong isn’t greedy for another kiss, he’s patient and butterflies tickle his chest since Yuta can’t help but think _why?_

Why Taeyong doesn’t treat him like he ought to be treated, why he doesn’t yell at him for being unfaithful and for disregarding their bond, why he keeps conversing with Yuta like they’ve always, why it feels like nothing’s changed but everything has—why Yuta had to fall for his cute skinny frame and poetry and everything he doesn’t know why he loves about him. Taeyong holds the tissue so that Yuta can blow his nose and after all of that; he thinks he’s ready to hear him out.

They’re ready.

Yuta buries his face in Taeyong’s chest, “I told you how I feel.”

Taeyong drags his hand up Yuta’s spine and strokes the soft hair on his neck, “You told me to forget it seconds later.”

“I don’t want you to forget it,” Yuta mumbles and he sounds like a child, he can’t help sounding desperate for the one person he wants so much.

Taeyong pulls him closer, “Then tell me again.”

So Yuta whispers that he loves him, it’s the third time he’s said it and Taeyong holds him in his embrace, Yuta can feel that he’s slightly crying but he could be mistaken.

Yuta pulls back to look at Taeyong with red and teary eyes. He has to be careful with his words, he needs to tell him what he wants but he doesn’t want to burden Taeyong with his feelings. Taeyong isn’t the most expressive person even though he’s sensitive and this is one of the reasons why Yuta’s finding it so difficult to speak. The other is that Taeyong is tilting Yuta’s head for another kiss.

If Taeyong would have felt the same way, he would have told him by now—so all of Yuta’s hopes are crushed. He should go back to hating him because this didn’t work out. Yuta cannot stay in his presence, expecting three words to come out from his mouth any longer.

Yet, he has faith. Ridiculously, Yuta has faith.

He holds Taeyong’s face, Taeyong’s arms hadn’t left his back, they’re still close enough to feel each other’s breaths and their hearts beat faster than the clock ticks in the room.

 _Faith,_ Yuta reminds himself. _One last time._

Taeyong is going to press their lips again, but Yuta stops him with a finger.

“Will you love me?” he says and his heart crushes along with the words.

“You don’t need to ask,” Taeyong whispers, following with the only word of reassurance Yuta has ever needed as he winds arms tighter around Taeyong’s waist.

“Always,” Taeyong says, kissing the mark on Yuta’s neck.

.

“So what does omega heat feel like?” Taeyong asks out of curiosity while they’re waiting for the manager to come get them for the performance.

“It’s the usual,” Yuta deadpans reading some papers and Taeyong’s eyebrows raise, he wasn’t expecting that.

Yuta continues, “Just sweaty, headaches, hornier than the normal and wanting you more for that week than I do every day and—mmmph!”

Taeyong can’t believe he’s the luckiest shit in the world with the pass to kiss Yuta whenever he wants.

“Hyung no—ew!” Chenle gags and Yuta pulls back with an expression that’s trying to fight a smile but Taeyong knows he’s incredibly bad at it.

Okay, maybe he _can’t_ kiss Yuta wherever he wants, but he still is _the boyfriend_ if the world would not let the kids destroy his newfound happiness every three minutes.

“I know I’m cute but you don’t have to stick your tongue in my throat for that,” he snorts, fingers hooking in the lapels of Taeyong’s jacket.

“Though I want an alternative to be pushed down my throat right now...” Yuta begins and Taeyong doesn’t hear the end of it or the catcalls that come after everyone saw his red face.

.

With the hairstylists done with pulling out the mini-clips out of the boys' hair, and the makeup artists done with fixing Mark's eye makeup and most importantly the manager is done with snatching the handycam from Johnny's hands before he said some more embarrassing stuff into it—

 _All set for stage,_ the manager sighs.

"You boys go down that exit..." she begins but then stops because there are only seven of them.

She doesn’t even bother wondering where the missing duo went.

.  
  
“Yuta can't you hold it?” Taeyong breathes out, pulling away from a very harsh magnet called Yuta’s lips and he knows he’s six minutes away from fucking Yuta if he doesn’t stop rolling his hips like that. Taeyong is in a kind of trap here, pressed between a wall and a very horny Yuta. In heat.

Taeyong sinks his canines into the corner of Yuta’s lips, hoping he’d stop kissing him from the pain but Yuta moans instead, he bloody likes it. _Fuck_ , Taeyong thinks.

“We need to show up for— _Yuta stop!”_ he warns him.

A needy whine from between Yuta’s lips is the last thing he wants to hear for preservation of his dick, “But I need you, come on hyung.”

_Okay, ‘hyung’ is not on the table here._

“Hyung thinks this is a bad idea so no,” he chides, hoping Yuta’s sex drive isn’t the only working thing in his body. He tries to grab Yuta’s hands only to find out that he’d already undone his belt.

_How did he reach under all those layers this fast?_

“Yuta we have to go!”

“But we still have time!”

Yuta pushes Taeyong to the back of the cubicle on a chair and when he jumps on his lap, air whooshes out of Taeyong’s lungs and Yuta smirks.

He can’t resist his pheromones now that he’s deeply inhaled them.

Taeyong’s vision blurs Yuta from someone he had a necessary need to avoid because priorities, into someone he had to have right now. He tries to snap out of it. There’s a strong suppressant in his back pocket and if only he has enough control over himself to stop imagining his hands teasing Yuta’s nipples to getting the darn packet.

Once Taeyong’s cock hits air and Yuta presses his clothed one onto it to give it little rubs while mouthing down the moles on Taeyong’s neck, Taeyong is considering biting Yuta through that huge leather collar because all of this is insane and they have a performance coming up.

Caught off guard when Yuta lightly thumbs the rudiments of a knot on his cock, Taeyong moans giving Yuta the satisfaction to smirk, but then frowns when Taeyong hisses, "Yuta your smell is already driving me crazy but we shouldn't—”

Yuta groans. _He really is no fun._

He leans closer, they’re breathing heavily into each other’s faces. Slowly, Yuta brings Taeyong's hand to his mouth and licks it in the filthiest manner he could and it has Taeyong's brain short circuiting.  
  
“Touch me,” Yuta breathes out, the fingers on Taeyong’s shoulders stiffening as Taeyong run his nose down his jaw, drinking in his scent, “Just a little and then I promise I’ll be good.”

Taeyong lets Yuta come down his throat and thankfully Yuta doesn’t attempt seducing him during promotions another time.

However he didn’t have a good excuse to give the manager when asked why his voice sounded weird during performance.

.

They’re done with greetings for the day, Yuta refuses to take suppressants and Taeyong doesn’t want to force him to take any, he secretly likes how sexy Yuta looks while in heat. However that is the kind of information Taeyong would only tell him while they’re screwing which is now because Yuta has somehow managed to convince Taeyong into fingering him before the van leaves for the dorms.

If Taeyong can’t balance his alpha boyfriend and leader duties they’re going to make Doyoung the leader of NCT and that plastic neon mic would be a terrifying sight to see every day if that happens.

"Tight," Taeyong bluntly comments as he stuffs Yuta with his fingers with much difficulty because Yuta isn't spreading his legs enough to get the job done fast. They're cramped in the changing room, and Taeyong has zero restraint to not turn Yuta around just to show him how good he looks with the red hoodie as the only thing on him while Taeyong fucks him against the mirror with his fingers.

"Your criticism of my asshole is really turning me off. Hurry up," Yuta says and he thinks he’s got a pass to lie because he wants Taeyong to stop talking before his voice drives him off the edge. But since Taeyong is the worst when it comes to teasing, he stops his hand right _there_ where his nail is barely tickling Yuta’s prostate and his other hand holds his hips so mean that Yuta is unable to push down on his hand.

"Hyung," Yuta let's out because he hates the present situation. It's been so long since Taeyong last fucked him—they’ve been entangled in practices and recordings (especially Taeyong, who's been writing from midnight till daybreak) that Yuta can no longer push back his need for a knot.

"Don't mess up my make up," he warns but Taeyong still licks at the peach balmed lips, screwing in his fingers with breathy pants over his teeth marks. “It's a shame I can't fuck you right now,” Taeyong growls, grabbing Yuta’s ass to grind him forward and closer.

And that’s how little it takes to make Yuta come.

Once Yuta’s squirming stops and he sighs, head lolling on Taeyong’s shoulder as he cleans them up like the neat freak he is.

“Look better for me when we get home, okay?”

.

But that moment doesn’t exactly come. Taeyong is called again for some stupid reason Yuta purposely forgot because it took him away. He's locked himself in his room, kicking Winwin out to go with Jaehyun and Yuta is not having fun fingering himself.

This is the longest he’s been without feeling like a total wreck however there is a little noise in the back of his mind doubting how long Taeyong can actually stand him. Yuta tunes it out as he thrusts his fingers slowly and then harshly, mimicking the movement of Taeyong’s fingers but it just doesn’t feel the same.

All the more reason to get impatient.

Yuta lies face down on the bed, his tank top is the only clothing he prefers to wear at a time like this, because heat like the word itself makes him feel like it’s summer with additional forty degrees.  
  
“Aww Yukkeuri you were enjoying without me?” he hears Taeyong warble and Yuta’s groans, burying his face in the pillows because that was a total boner killer.

He doesn’t notice Taeyong locking the door and creeping up beside him, too focused on getting himself off, ass up in the air and he’s not going to ask Taeyong to finger him when he’s so close but Taeyong takes hold of Yuta’s hand before pressing it further, gently guiding his movements and if there's anyone in this world who knows how to finger him in a way that has him coming within minutes it's Lee Taeyong.

While Yuta wipes his sticky hands, Taeyong checks his phone mindlessly, the time taken by Yuta’s pheromones to hijack into his system is the same as Yuta’s refractory period so he might as well say it before they both lose their minds and energy in nightlong animalistic sex.

“Hey...” Yuta mumbles and he’s surprised his barely audible word has Taeyong putting down has phone to settle under Yuta’s chin. The joys of cuddling.

“What?” Taeyong says, rubbing his face in Yuta’s chest until Yuta’s giggling and the strap of his tank top gives way for Yuta’s nipple to be trapped in between his lips.

“I was going to say I love you and some cheesy stuff but no time for that—god, _fuck me.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> yours truly bet that yutae wouldn’t sail as much as yuwin this year. i was positive i’d have an easy win because heh it’s yuwin. yuwin sails on the oceans of neptune. besides, the loser would have to write fic for the winner—count me in.  
> but then yutae wanted to marry each other and the score came down pretty badly for me...  
> i’m never betting on anything again. do drop a comment! :)


End file.
